Five Centuries of Sketch
by soulback
Summary: A 'sketch dump' of bits and bobs. They vaguely connect to make a whole story, in as much as everything I write is about Neil/Todd.
1. Trees

**In the changing, swirling world of fandom, I will always ship Neil/Todd.** **So my first sketch has got to be about the moment Neil realises he might have, you know, The Feelings.**

**I adore Haykatsi0o's 'Sketch Dump'** **- and as I am a singularly lazy writer, the idea of not having to connect chapters in any meaningful way is wonderful. So I nicked the idea.**

**Disclaimer: DPS is so not mine.**

**Reviews are wonderfully glorious things. (You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.)**

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><p>Neil doesn't know, and then he does; just like that, no trumpets, no fanfare, just the matter of a moment, and it's so obvious that in the cold grey light of morning he wonders if he's even the first to find out.<p>

He wakes to see the Todd hopping around the room in the pre-dawn shadows. Todd is clearly attempting to get dressed without turning on the lamp and disturbing his roommate, and he bumps into the desk chair in the process. He grabs the chair just before it hits the ground, and throws a worried look over his shoulder at Neil.

Neil shuts his eyes fast. Todd breathes an audible sigh of relief, and buckles his belt. Neil returns to watching him lazily through sleep-blurred eyes.

His pale skin faintly glows in the blue-grey light and there's an elegant simplicity in the shape and structure of his body, like a young birch tree. Neil wonders when on earth he started comparing his roommate's body to _trees _and then realises that in the six weeks they've been roomies, he's never actually seen Todd in a state of undress.

Todd mutters something under his breath as he slips his t-shirt quickly over his head, that Neil can't quite work out. It almost sounds like he's psyching himself up. Now Neil is intrigued, and watches Todd openly.

Todd turns to reach for his jacket, sees Neil staring at him, and jumps. He looks confused for a moment, before, almost guiltily, mumbling, "Good morning." He sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Is it?" asks Neil. "What's the time?"

"About five-thirty." Todd casually ties his shoelaces

"What are you doing?" Neil frowns.

"Going for a walk." Todd shrugs on his jacket, and ducks his head in embarrassment. "You know. Um. Carpe diem."

Neil groans dramatically and rolls over in bed, burying his head in the pillow as he hears the dormitory door close. He must be the only boy in the entire school whose roommate thinks that 'carpe diem' means going for a walk before sunrise.

But of course Todd would think that. That's what makes him Todd. So subversive you don't even realises you're being subverted until -

And that's it. That's the moment. That's when Neil knows. It isn't a romantic or epic or poetry-worthy knowing; more the sudden realisation of a teenage boy that, however perfectly formed and magnificent the breasts of Charlie's coveted centrefold spread may be, they're not going to do it for Neil.


	2. Bed

**I don't want to get stuck on the physical side of Neil/Todd but it's so much more interesting to write - it's like a problem to be wrestled with, to make it believable. Plus, come on. It's sweet...  
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**Disclaimer: DPS not mine. Reviews are love. (You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.)**

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><p>Neil devises all sorts of reason to get into Todd's bed. It's too cold. Todd got a crappy birthday present. Neil can hear Knox snoring through the wall. Neil's having a bad dream. Todd's having a bad dream.<p>

("_No, I'm not_." "_Yes, you are. Flailing around like you're being attacked by sharks. Can't get a moment's peace. Now shove over_.")

The first time, Neil blames it on the thunderstorm.

"Scoot over," he whispers.

"Why?" asks Todd.

"Because there's a thunderstorm, idiot," says Neil, slipping into the bed besides Todd.

"But I'm not scared," says Todd, reasonably. "And even if I was – "

"I know," Neil cuts him off. "Now go to sleep."

There is silence as they settle into comfortable positions, with Todd's back pressed against Neil's chest. Todd is warm and smells like pencils and oranges.

"Are _you_ scared?" asks Todd, suddenly.

"Of course not," says Neil, praying that his hammering heart won't give him away.

xxx

Neil quickly learns that when it comes to Todd, however, he doesn't need actual reasons – he only needs Todd to think that there are reasons, even if that reason is just Neil being Neil and Todd being wrong. Of _course_ this is what boys who share dormitory rooms do together. Well, they do at Helton, anyway. _Now go to sleep_.

The best time they share a bed, though, is when Neil wakes up in his own bed in the morning to find Todd fast asleep next to him.

Todd doesn't need reasons, either.


	3. Tea

**So I basically ripped this scene right out of Dead Poets Society and twisted it to suit my secret plans. It might be a bit of a jump ahead in time from previous sketches, but oh well.  
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**Disclaimer: DPS - still not mine. But reviews are the sweetness in my smile, the bright light that shines from my eyes. (Well done, Knox. Well done.)  
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><p>"Is there anything else, Neil?"<p>

In the softly lit study, Mr. Keating smiles kindly as Neil fiddles with his tea cup, longing to speak but unable to find the words.

Maybe there are no words for what he wants to say. Maybe the English language in all its infinite glory and ability to woo, has failed to provide him with the words to express the strange longings of his tortured soul.

But that's not true, and Neil knows it. The words exist – little, everyday words like 'boy' and 'think' and 'love' and 'in' – but they don't go together the way he wants them to, they don't fit together in his mouth.

"She's pretty," he says, as if changing the subject. He nods at the photo of the woman on Mr. Keating's desk.

"Yes," Mr. Keating sighs. "She's also is in London."

"Why do you stay here, then?"

"Because I love teaching."

"But – do you love her?" Neil hurriedly takes a sip of tea, painfully aware that his cheeks are burning at the mere mention of the word.

"Yes." Mr Keating looks down at his desk, and shuffles his papers together. His face is sad.

"How did you – know?" Neil gulps, emboldened by Mr Keating's simple admission.

"Ahh… _love_." Mr. Keating leans back in his chair, as if he has been waiting a long time for someone to ask just this question. "To know is to always have known." He looks at Neil.

"That's poetry," says Neil, laughing casually.

"Love is poetry," says Mr Keating. "It is also absurd, and has complete disregard for convenience. You never know when or where or with whom it will happen."

Neil wonders if he's accidentally said aloud the things that he can barely say to himself, or if Mr. Keating has the ability to read minds –

He puts the cup down hastily, and nods at the English teacher. "Thank you, Captain. For your other advice. And for the - tea. Good night."


	4. Seize

**Okay, now this definitely counts as a jump in time, but whatever, they're sketches; plus, I'm working on a longer fic (ooooh) and I'm not too fussed at the moment to fill in the gaps.**

**Dead Poets Society isn't mine; I just play with the Poets.**

**Reviews are GUYS GUYS TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK I must know. Too childish? Too mature? Too corny?** **(If it's corny AND cheesy, that's okay, at least it will be tasty.)**

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><p>After the first rehearsal of the play, Neil is buzzing; he is so filled with the energy and invincibility of anything being possible, that when at last he makes it back to the dormitory room (he may have tripped up the stairs a few times without even noticing) and sees Todd hanging his coat up in the wardrobe, Neil grabs him, seizes him by the front of his shirt, and kisses him.<p>

It's a kiss so filled with pushing and surprise that neither boy really knows what it feels like, but when Todd breaks away and takes a step back towards the desk, Neil sees in his face, for just a second, an echo of the same thing he felt when he decided to become an actor; the same thing he felt when he realised that the centrefold spread wasn't for him; the same thing he felt when he knew that he'd always known.

- and then the light fades from Todd's face, quickly, so quickly, and is replaced by sense and good reason, family and future, tradition and terror, obedience and shame; it's replaced by what boys do and don't do.

"Stop," says Neil desparately, trying to grab the light with his words. "Stop – "

"Stop _what_?"

"That thing you do, that you always do. Just give yourself one moment to – to have this."

"I can't." Todd stumbles and holds onto the chair.

"You can."

"I'm not like you," he says, shaking his head.

"But you want it."

Neil knows he's pleading now. He also knows he doesn't care.

"So?" says Todd – and then, "Don't tell me what I want." He makes for the door but Neil is invincible and lunges to block his path. He holds up one hand like he's calming a dangerously wounded lion.

"Just _one moment_. It's all I ask."

Todd at least stands still, and Neil dares to edge closer to him. He's still not quite sure what he's doing but he does it anyway as, slowly and carefully, he places his hand on Todd's cheek. Todd winces, but doesn't move away.

"Be brave," says Neil.

Todd refuses to look at him.

"Please be brave. Please." Neil takes Todd's face in both his hands and forces his gaze upwards. "It's just you and me. Look at me. It's _us_."

And Neil laughs, as if 'us' is the most natural, simple thing in the world. He smiles into the face of his best friend. "Carpe diem?" he says, and wiggles his eyebrows in his goofiest manner. His heart bursts a little when Todd lets a grin slip through his armour.

"There," says Neil. He hesitates just for a second - to show he's not strong, to show he's still himself – then he kisses Todd again.

This time it's softer and warm, and Neil's spine tingles when Todd starts kissing him back.

"So _this_ is kissing – " Neil thinks, and now he's starting to understand what all those dead poets were banging on about – then there is no thinking, only lips and bumping noses and false starts and smiles, and the shy brilliant laughter of Todd that seems to turn their inexperienced boyish fumbles into anything they want it to be.


	5. Tshirt

**Complete and utter fluff. Like eating marshmallows on a cloud of marshmallows. Hey, the movie was for character development. Now is the time for sweet marshmallow-y goodness to soothe the post-DPS angst.**

**Disclaimer: Dead Poets Society isn't mine. Do we still need to say that? Reviews are MARSHMALLOW CLOUDS.**

**(p.s. I like to think that Neil has some awareness of how completely ridiculous he can be...)  
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><p>By the time Neil has finished stealing Cameron's shampoo, styled his hair into a Mohawk, and talked his way out of detention for flooding the bathroom, Todd is already sitting in bed with a towel wrapped around his neck to stop his wet hair from dripping onto the book he is reading.<p>

Neil gives him a curious glance as he enters the room, but it's nowhere near enough to get Todd's attention – Todd seems thoroughly engaged in _A Brief History Of Everything_.

Neil sighs and goes about the business of getting ready for bed. Despite their recent trysts behind closed doors, Neil has no problems with getting undressed in front of his roommate. He has always been disarmingly casual about his own body, and sees no reason why he should start caring now.

Wearing only his pyjama bottoms, Neil turns to Todd suddenly and starts performing lines from the play, bringing his hands up before his eyes and skipping lightly on his toes, until he trips on the hem of his pyjamas and goes crashing onto his bed. As he lands, he notices Todd smile down at his book.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" Neil asks, determined to play the fool as he falls writhing from the bed onto the floor where he lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a pained expression on his face.

Beneath his mask of dejection, Neil can't recall a time he has been this happy – genuinely happy, not just giddy with the high spirits of boyhood. Sometimes he thinks his heart will burst at the sight of Todd, or his cheeks will crack from smiling.

But at other times, he's not sure that Todd returns his affection with quite the same over-the-top shout-it-from-the-roof-tops head-in-the-stars and feet-on-the-moon enthusiasm. Neil rolls over on the floor and stares up at Todd, willing him to speak, to smile, even to blink –

"_Yaaaaugh!_"

He leaps to his feet and bounces onto Todd's bed, positioning himself on all fours in front of the boy. He butts at the book with his chin, and makes desperately pathetic puppy-dog eyes. Todd tries to turn the page but Neil's head is in the way, and at last Todd sighs, places a marker carefully into the book, and puts it to one side.

Neil can't be sure but he thinks, he _thinks _Todd is biting down a smile that threatens to come through the corners of his mouth – that, or Todd is furiously angry and is trying not to shout at Neil – but Todd doesn't _get _angry, Neil reasons, only annoyed or rationale –

- Neil realises he's been staring at Todd's face and thinking these things for too long, when Todd raises his eyebrows questioningly.

"Right," says Neil, giving Todd a lopsided grin. "That's better."

Still on all fours, Neil leans in to kiss Todd on the lips, which Todd graciously permits. At first their kisses are chaste and delicate – but they've had enough goes at this in darkened dormitories to not stuff around with pleasantries, and soon the kisses become softer and wet, with room for smiles and half laughs. Realising that Neil isn't going to go away anytime soon, Todd pushes aside the blankets and shuffles to his knees, so that both boys are resting their weight on their hands. As their tongues slip together and Neil can taste the minty toothpaste in Todd's mouth, Neil decides the question of whether Todd likes him as much as he likes Todd is completely irrelevant.

They rise up on their knees so their bodies are pressed together, Neil's bare chest pressed against Todd's t-shirted one. With uncharacteristic assuredness, Todd runs his hands across Neil's bare back. His touch is cool against Neil's shower-warm skin, and his fingers raise a trail of goosebumps.

"Oh," says Todd, and he looks surprised at the goosebumps appearing on Neil's arm.

"Uh, yeah. It's supposed to do that," jokes Neil, and then he realises that without saying a word, without even _looking_ at him, Todd has managed a) to get Neil half-naked on his bed, b) to kiss him, and c) to make him self-conscious about his own body.

_That's it_, Neil thinks. _It's official. Todd is officially the most subversive bastard of us all_.

They keep kissing, in a valiant effort to distract themselves from the increasing boldness of fingers running across skin. Neil removes the towel from Todd's shoulders, and Todd doesn't protest, so he slips his hands up the back of Todd's t-shirt, and discovers a whole universe of heat and muscle to explore as he holds the boy close.

"Wait," says Todd, and sits back. He hesitates, and then in a blinding act of trust, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. With mussed-up hair and eyes closed, he he clutches the t-shirt with one hand as if making a last minute decision – then the t-shirt joins the towel on the floor. He sits on the bed in his pyjama pants.

"_Todd_."

Neil is awestruck. Todd isn't being subversive anymore; he's just a shy teenage boy with enough self-consciousness for both of them. Todd raises his eyebrows as if to say 'What the hell', but Neil knows he doesn't mean it. He could not be feeling more vulnerable if he was stark naked with his butt hanging out of the Principal's office tower.

And there it is, that smooth pale uncomplicated chest Neil has been trying not to think about; so very close and so very, very _there _that Neil can hardly stand the space between them. He reaches out and places his palm gently on Todd's chest, and Neil can feel his wildly beating heart through his skin. It is awkward, delicious, so intensely satisfying that Neil laughs appreciatively, in disbelief.

Todd's face turns the colour of strawberry jam. Neil hurriedly pulls his hand away, apologising.

"I'm fine. What are you – what? What are you thinking?" asks Todd, clearly not fine but determined to be otherwise.

Silence falls as they stare at each other, and suddenly everything Neil knew about Todd is wrong.

Neil has always considered himself the brave one – going against his father's wishes, auditioning for the play, bringing the Dead Poet's Society back to life. But in that one small act of removing his t-shirt, Todd is by far the braver of the two. Every time Todd smiles at Neil in a Society meeting, or doesn't pull his leg away under the dinner table, or lets Neil rest his hand on his shoulder while they study, Todd has to fight _himself_ to get what he wants. Neil can forget his father once he gets back to school – out of sight, out of mind. But every fear Todd has is internalised. He carries his insecurities and doubts with him.

"I'm thinking that you're amazing," says Neil. The intensity of the moment is gone but the deep affection remains as he re-arranges his coltish limbs so that he is sitting next to Todd. He leans his head on Todd's shoulder, arm wrapped around his waist, and Todd rests his own golden-haired head against Neil.

"I'm not," says Todd. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you _are_, dummy – and look," says Neil, wriggling his toes energetically. "Even my toes think you're amazing."

"My toes think you're amazing, too."

As Neil closes his eyes and listens to Todd's heart beat, Todd holds the boy closer, grabs his copy of _A Brief History of Everything_, and smiles to himself as he continues reading.


	6. Touch

**This is the last sketch off my computer; I think it makes a nice end-thing to this collection. Probably won't be writing any more of these (at least, for a while) - I'm still working on my not!sketches fic, and then I might just have gotten through my post-DPS angst. That is, until I next watch it.**

**Dear Todd. I love you. Always be you. And be happy.**

**Disclaimer: DPS not mine. Reviews are the touch that light up my soul. (Knox would've written that if he had more time...)**

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><p>In the shadowless hour before the sun rises, Todd climbs over the slumbering form of his roommate and sometimes bed-fellow, taking care not to kick Neil in the head this time. Gently, he tucks the blankets in around the boy so the heat doesn't escape. Neil mumbles something in his half-sleep, an objection of sorts, but he doesn't press the matter as he rolls over and resumes his light snoring.<p>

Todd dresses as quickly as possible to avoid the cold, and sneaks down the stairs and through the smaller door at the back. His ears are strained, listening for the faintest sound of being detected – but all is quiet both in and out. He steps out into the snow-covered grounds, and his breath forms neat little clouds in front of him, like a steam engine from a children's book.

Todd is the Little Boy Who Could – though so far only he knows it, and Neil, of course, because Neil knows everything – but the others will find out what he is capable of, one day.

He dashes across the open ground down to the lake, where he can walk along its near-frozen shores, hidden from prying eyes by the cover of the trees.

As he walks, the sun begins to rise above the horizon, and where it peeps through the trees it turns the lake to glittering diamonds. It is nevertheless freezing, and Todd shoves his hands into his coat pockets – but otherwise he doesn't notice the cold as his eyes sparkle with the water.

In this lonesome moment of dawn, Todd is free to be exactly who he is. He doesn't even wish Neil were here to share it with him – this is his, and his alone.

The other boys laugh derisively and call the school 'Helton', but to him it is something like home. It's given him friends and societies, poetry, and the faintest inkling of a voice. It's given him _Neil_ – of course he wouldn't leave Neil off the list, Todd thinks as he breaks into a run – and touch.

Touch. Of all the things he has found this year, touch is the thing Todd is most grateful for.

Affection expressed in human worth. Lips pressed against lips, signifying more than words ever could. Pounding thwacks on the back in the excitement of a game, and extended hugs that mean appreciation and worth.

Neil's leg against his under the study table. His hand resting lazily on Neil's back as they stare groggily into the wardrobe each morning. Fingers locked tightly together when no-one is looking. Fingertips caressing, exploring, owning skin, bringing out secrets and drawing forth new levels of consciousness in the dark, of things they never knew their bodies could _do_.

Todd runs faster.

His brother used to wrestle him a bit when they were kids, locking his head under his arm until Todd thought he would vomit from laughing – but then Jeffrey went to school, went to college, went to work, and grew up. His parents never held him, not that he can remember, not in any way that counted. They gave him good food and an education and all the desk sets money can buy, but Mrs Anderson never once let Todd sit on her lap while reading bedtime stories as a child, and when Todd was learning to ride a bike, Mr Anderson shouted instructions at him from the porch before telling him to pick up his bike and get inside when he fell over.

Forget words, kind well-meaning words, forget music and poetry and birthday cakes – touch is the one thing Todd doesn't want to go back to living without

He races up the hill and into the dormitory wing, barely remembering to be quiet as he clambers up the stairs to his room. Once inside, he closes the door quickly, kicks his shoes off, and drops his coat onto the chair.

"Hey," says Neil, rubbing his eyes blearily, still tucked up in Todd's bed. "It's Saturday. What's – "

Neil doesn't get to finish his sentence as Todd leaps onto him in a flying tackle. To his credit, Neil wakes up in an instant and is already fighting back, using his superior tickling-technique to get Todd onto the mattress and giggling hard as he tries valiantly to regain control.

"Where have you been, you mussy-haired rosy-cheeked snow spirit?" Neil ruffles flakes of snow from Todd's hair as if to prove his point, then draws him in close.

"_I went to the woods to live deliberately_ – "

"I'll bet you did," says Neil, shutting him up with a kiss. He throws the blanket over Todd and then wraps his arm around him, and Todd settles luxuriously into the warmth of Neil's embrace.


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